


Kids with a Latte Problems

by coffeemonster



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Amnesia, Angst, College AU, Fluff, M/M, and thats the porn, i know what you came here for, ill add more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeemonster/pseuds/coffeemonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He says you love him and he loves you, but you don't even know who he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> im just trying to get back into writing

You were 12 when you befriended the boy named John Egbert who lived 2,440 miles away online, exchanging your PesterChum handles through private messages on a forum.

15, when he shyly confessed that he had "kind of a crush on you? kind of?" and you couldn't answer him back, because you never really thought of him more than anything as a friend. A couple of days passed with John trying to initiate conversations, but you were too nervous to reply back. Eventually you eased into your normal self with him again and eventually you forgot about his confession.

Then came when you were 17 and about to enter high school, when he accidentally mentioned his girlfriend of 7 months that he never told you about because "oh! right sorry, it slipped my mind haha". The burning in your chest became known to you-- anger, jealousy, remorse, and hate ran through your veins and dripped off your skin. Of course, you made sure not to make this known to him and played it off cool with a "wow egbert im so hurt i thought i was the only one for you dude". Unfortunately, it only made things awkward between the two of you again-- it seemed that he didn't forget his "kind of a crush" statement, which brought up embarrassing memories for the both of you. Though eventually, you two slipped into your normal banter again with the uncomfortable ordeal thrown away in the bin.

A few weeks later, he informed you that he broke up with her saying, "i wasn't feeling it anymore, but i guess haven't been in a while haha". Then it slipped through.

turntechGodhead began pestering ectoBiologist at 14:55.

TG: i think i like you  
TG: like as in like like  
TG: im a little boy in third grade throwing rocks at you while you cry except im throwing my feelings here at you and im not really sure what youre doing right now  
TG: except not reading this right now because this is pretty important  
TG: i mean you dont have to do something or anything im just saying that im just going to put that out there on the table even though you just broke up with your girlfriend or whatever but i think ive always liked you  
TG: ok im going to die  
TG: where the fuck are you  
TG: god damn it

turntechGodhead ceased pestering ectoBiologist at 15:20.

You quickly logged off, with your blood pumping through your veins at an alarming rate. Instantly, you regretted it.  It was years since he said that _thing_ to you and you didn’t even give him a yes or no, you just kind of ignored it and there you were pretty much doing the same thing he did. To top it off, he just broke up with his girlfriend, but who cares? It’s not like he liked her anymore, but then again, maybe he wasn’t ready for another relationship or something.  

Fuck. You were scared and nervous and on edge and high on adrenaline and you couldn’t handle yourself with those feelings at the moment. So you took a breather and decided to take a break from your online friends.

PesterChum was dangerous and you avoided logging onto it at all for about two weeks until you started getting lonely without talking to your friends and gave in to temptation. Your fingers were heavy as you entered your log in information, head reeling as you anticipated John’s reply to you.

ectoBiologist began pestering  turntechGodhead at 18:30.

EB: dave oh crap  
EB: ok i’ll just wait for you to come back on

ectoBiologist ceased pestering turntechGodhead at 18:35.

ectoBiologist began pestering turntechGodhead at 16:12.

EB: ok its been like a couple of days, aren’t you over reacting a bit?  
EB: daaaaaaaave seriously. are you just invisible or are you actually not on?  
EB: if you’re scared theres no reason to be  
EB: because i like you too so um  
EB: yeah  
EB: i mean its not like “ive always been in love with you throughout these years, but i was always just ok with being your bro and all” or anything okay  
EB: i just recently again started to see that you know yeah i kind of yeah you know  
EB: so just come back online.

ectoBiologist began pestering  turntechGodhead at 19:15.

And you were online. And he was online.

You were also 17 when you and John Egbert settled on an agreement to be “kind of… boyfriends? I guess”.

Once you were both out of high school, you two decided to go to the same college in California to be closer together, but also to chase both of your dreams--for him to become a widely known pianist and for you to start on the path of becoming a successful Hollywood director.

Living in an apartment with John was blissful when you weren’t at each other’s throats. Though John did the cooking and cleaning, he also had some habits that got on your nerves. To name one, he left the toilet lid up, causing you to fall into the toilet in moments when you had to urgently take a shit. You weren’t perfect either. You were pretty filthy, leaving your dirty plates not only in the sink, but on the desk, on top of the fridge, next to the TV and forgetting them. You never did your laundry or put your worn clothes in the hamper, and that really plucked John’s nerves, considering how he neat he liked the apartment to be.

Though as often as you fought, you also made love. Often hot, rough sex with you occasionally bent over the kitchen table where you ate, being pounded like a mallard duck or maybe on the couch with his strong hands pinning yours on top of your head as he grinds himself to completion on your stomach, panting and sweating and groaning and burning and _hot._

You two loved each other and though you had separate bedrooms, you slept together on your bed, holding each other contently-- peacefully. He usually woke up first, showering you with short early morning kisses, slowly pulling you out of your slumber and you'd smile like a dumbass and cradle his face in your hands as the sun rises.

At that moment, you loved this boy and you knew he loved you. The way he massaged you when you were stressed over an assignment, when he'd make you a cup of warm tea when you were up until 3 AM in the morning… The way he'd nervously glance at you from the corners of his eyes, thinking you don’t notice, and gets flustered when you snap your head at him pointedly and smirk. The way he'd try to prank you with ceram wrap in the doorway and the way he'd shyly kiss you, your lips barely brushing, your sighs lost in each others mouths, melting together...

And after three years of college…

You still love this boy, but you're not sure if he still loves you.


	2. First Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first meeting d'aww

John was the first one to arrive in California, having the apartment chosen and already paid for the next three months due to his large inheritance from his Nanna. To think that you were finally meeting your kind of boyfriend of a year and half face to face is… nerve wracking, to say that least. You had your shit packed in a luggage two weeks before the day you left for the airport, having to take clothes in and out when you needed to change. Then when you went to bed, you would close your eyes and visualize what you were going to do when you first see him.

You would trudge out of the airport, pulling your large luggage behind you, energized to see John. When you two find each other, you would drop your belongings, run to him as he runs to you, wrap your arms around his waist and kiss him with all the love you had. You would kiss him passionately in front of everyone, an act of desire and longing, shamelessly and guiltlessly and it was going to be heart wrenchingly perfect.

He would cry and you would too, and you would just hold each other at the airport in disbelief that you two were physically together. You two were touching. You would be able to smell him, touch his hair, his skin, his hands, and… his lips. You would be able to gaze into his eyes and kiss his eyelashes and, and hold his face and whisper secrets in his ears that no one else was allowed to hear because those words were for John and John alone. After that, you two would decide to pick up your belongings and head back to the apartment to get settled, hand in hand.

He would lay his head on your shoulder and you would put yours on top in the back of the taxi he called for on your way home. Your heart would be bursting with happiness, excitement, joy, giddiness, and everything in between. When you arrive at the apartment, you would put your stuff in your designated bedroom and pull John onto you and kiss him vigorously and you would run your hands through his hair and cup his cheeks or maybe you would just wrap them around his waist, it wouldn’t matter as long as John was kissing you.  You two would bump teeth a little bit because you were both inexperienced at romantic stuff, but you would laugh it off and kiss again.

Then you would go to the living room and put on a movie and you two would sit on the couch holding hands as you watch one of the movies he liked while you make comments on how the scene should have been shot or what lines would have been better suited or something stupid. Boxes, pieces of foam and plastic would be scattered around the apartment along with the furniture, but it would be ok because you two would rather be stupid and cuddle because the apartment could be cleaned up whenever anyway. Being physically near John would be more important than anything.

After the movie, you two would fall asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch with a smile plastered on both your faces.

Of course you had more visualized in your head, but that’s as far as you’ll go. Basically, you two would be happy together and there, of course, will be bumps along the way, but it’d be okay because you two would work it out. You’d fall asleep to these lovely thoughts, but your dreams were plagued by nightmares. John would see you, realize how different you look on webcam and be disgusted—or worse, John would look different on webcam and you would be disgusted. Sometimes, he might not even be there and the whole thing was a joke and you’re left wandering LAX by yourself.

Finally, after what seemed like ten years of waiting, you were on your way to Los Angeles, California. You couldn’t stop fidgeting with yourself on the plane there—your hair needed to be flipped, your shirt refitted, your shoelaces retied, face rewiped with the napkins the stewardess would sourly hand over to you. Finally the plane landed, finally you walked out of the damned thing, finally you got your luggage, and finally you were walked out to the lobby.

You searched the crowd for a mess of black hair and a red sweatshirt he said he’d be wearing, constantly distracted by people who found the person they were looking for. Your hands were gripping the handle of your luggage with an iron fist, hands becoming clammy. Your heart started to beat fast and fuck you, he wasn’t there. He was never there and this whole thing was just a cruel joke on his part and you hated him and fuck that guy, what were you going to do? You depended on him way too much and the money you brought wouldn’t last you long enough and you didn’t want to ask Bro to send you money so you can get a place because you assured him John was taking care of it and where was he? Not fucking there is where.

But then you felt a soft tapping on your shoulder and a loud “DAVE?”

Oh shit, that voice was familiar and could only belong to one person. You couldn’t release your grip on the luggage and awkwardly turned towards the person—John. He was taller than he seemed, bulkier too. He had buck teeth that weren’t visible over Skype and they were so strangely endearing and you froze up.

He cleared his throat, looking to the side, avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, it’s me, John. Haha… It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “Finally get to meet my bestest brodude, John Egbert, man of the universe. I’m so incredibly honored to be in your presence and so incredibly lucky. Please John, tell me what the weather is like up there and I’ll tell you how it is down here. I’ll tell you what, it’s pretty god damned hot, if you know what I’m saying.”

Oops, you spoke too much.

“Right, right, yeah.” John probably thought you were stupid, look at him-- he was even avoiding eye contact. Probably because nothing you just said made any sense. “So, we should get going before the taxi driver busts my balls.”

He led the way out of the lobby and towards the taxi with you scuttling behind him. Wow, that was painful. Painfully embarrassing. You loaded your crap into the trunk and sat in the backseat of the taxi. Now, you were on your way to your new home.

John was on the other side of the backseat, his hands supporting his head as he watched outside of the window, seemingly uninterested in the boyfriend next to him. Crestfallen, you twiddled with your thumbs and glared angrily at all the passing buildings. Nothing was going the way you planned it to-- you barely even brushed by him at all, let alone hold his hand or kiss his face.

The trip back to the apartment was filled with an awkward and pregnant silence, neither of you daring to pop the bubble of quiet.

Thirty minutes later, the taxi pulled up onto the apartment complex’s parking lot and John hurriedly exited the car as you opened the door with all the pent up rage and the next thing you know, you had hit him in the stomach with the car door.

Oh, was he going to open up the door for you?

“Oh shit!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth. He staggered back a bit, holding up a hand. “Are you ok? I’m sorry, holy crap, I didn’t know you were coming around.”

“I-it’s fine,” he breathily replied.

“I’ll just… I’ll just go get my stuff and okay, yeah.” With the luggage in tow and money handed to the disgruntled driver, you entered the building and hurried into the elevator. John was slightly bent over, clutching his stomach as you two began your ascension.

“Open doors like that all the time?”

“Occasionally,” you chuckled. “Shit though, I didn’t know you were coming around the car or anything. I’m sorry, man.” Damn, you were so angry a moment ago.

The door opened and you two walked out. Following him again, he led you into the apartment that you two, as a couple, were going to be living together in.

Slight disappointment bubbled in your chest to see that everything was already put in place. The TV was on its proper perch, the couch seated right across and the coffee table positioned in between. Mindless photos from thrift stores that John mentioned he bought were framed and hung on the walls. Everything was organized and neat already and you didn’t do it together. Even your bedroom was in order with your other belongings that got shipped from Texas. Shirts hung in the closet, pants folded and neatly stacked on the shelves right below it. Your bed was neatly and meticulously made with white bedsheets, a lamp placed on top of a small bed side table placed on the right. Even desk that came in pieces and bolts and little shitty screws was already assembled with your desk top plugged in and ready to be turned on.

He watched you as you took in your surroundings, feeling pleased with himself that he was able to be the perfect partner—considerate and clean. Gingerly, you dropped the luggage on the soft carpet and opened it up to take out your clothes and dump it unceremoniously on the floor. Gingerly, John continued to watch you from the doorway. Taking a pair of boxers and a wife beater, you stood up and turned to him.

“I’m just gonna go take a shower and hit the hay,” you muttered at the wall.  “The plane ride was pretty tiring. Show me the shower and towel please.”

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “It’s down the hall, the only room on the left and the blue towel hanging on the rack is yours.”

“Sweet,” you said as you carefully walked past him. “Thanks, bro.”

“Wait, Dave.”

You turned around for the second time that day, except this time he slammed his face into yours, knocking your teeth together.

“Agh!” You exclaimed, stumbling back. That actually kind of hurt. “Nice moves, Casanova, what the fuck were you trying to do? Knock me out with your face?”

He didn’t reply. He only stood there, mesmerized, touching his lips, furiously blushing, staring at the floor.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “I kissed you.”

Flustered, you tried to formulate a reply, only to sputter a couple of syllables.

Warmth made its face up your neck and into your face as you hurriedly scuttled towards him.

You quickly pecked his cheek, only able to catch a glimpse of him beginning to raise his head to look at you before you’re in the bathroom, sitting on top of the toilet lid, finger on your lips, replaying the scene over and over again.

**Author's Note:**

> nice constructive criticism would be nice


End file.
